Overflow

This morning found me crying.

Crying is my safety valve. When my emotions, positive or negative, get cranked up to eleven the tears start. It's my way of keeping my head from exploding. Not howling, boo-hoo crying but tears that don't stop until I can get settled back down.

B's digestive system has been screwed up for going on a month now and since Sunday the circulation in his legs is beginning to worry me. It's all part of his screwed physiology from his spinal cord injury and it's just one more thing for me to worry about. If I had to give my occupation it would be "The One Who Worries About B".

Sometimes I get so resentful of his injury. I'm not resentful of B or the care he needs but I resent the injury itself. I resent how it's a burden on him and how he can never escape it. I resent that we can't live even one day like everyone else. I think of the things we miss out on - vacations and visiting where we like and going everywhere together. Being able to hold his hand as we walk down the street or dancing together. Even just going outside without it being a long, drawn-out process that takes the effort of a pile of people. I resent that he's being cheated out of things and it cheats me out as well. I'm even resentful of my resentment - that it takes up space in my life.

I wish I could be more like B. He seems to take it all in stride but then again he's had more practice than I've had. He's the one who really has a right to be bitter and resentful and he never is. He never complains. He just learned to live with what life gave him. He finds what's good and appreciates it.

I wish I had that sort of grace. I wish I could shut off the resentment. I wish I didn't get pissed about a spinal cord injury but I do. I get angry that the person I love with all my heart got screwed out of a normal life when he was twenty-four years old. I just resent how it controls us both and how it always will.

I had my bout with tears and B kissed me and comforted me and shortly thereafter I left to go to the bakery. Outside I saw an older couple with their son. They live in the apartment building next to mine and I see them rather often. Their son is grown - he may be in his thirties by now - and he's mentally and physically disabled. His twisted body is stuck in a wheelchair and faithfully his parents care for him. I wondered about their resentment. I wondered if they even had resentment. It seemed to me that they had more reason to be resentful. I don't know the nature of their son's disability - if he was born that way or if it was due to injury or illness - but I know it's not what they barganed for when they had a child. I chose to marry a disabled man, they had one handed to them without invitation. I wonder if they at times resent their son's disabilities and how they must dance to its tune. I wonder if they resent never being able to release their child into the world to make his own way and having their elder years free for themselves. I wonder if they resent having to worry about what will happen to their child once they're gone.

I smiled and said good morning to them as I passed and the son gave me a big smile back. Like B, he's the one who should really be resentful of his lot in life and yet he seems to just be who he is. He's able to know what's good in life and have it give him a smile.

His smile put tears in my eyes again. Just all that emotion bubbling up.